


A Comfort in You

by ToWriteFanfictionOnHerLaptop



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, after the war
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:02:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24895858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToWriteFanfictionOnHerLaptop/pseuds/ToWriteFanfictionOnHerLaptop
Summary: There was an ease about this place, especially with him. It was a comfort, a feeling of belonging, of certainty. As if everything in my life had led me up to this point, this one very moment with him in the next room sleeping, and me, here. I felt like I knew every part of him. His grandest dreams and his worst nightmares. Every curve of his body, every lazy curl, every mannerism and every annoyance and I could not love him more.Just some fluff about Nico and Leo's life after the war.
Relationships: Nico di Angelo/Leo Valdez
Kudos: 14





	A Comfort in You

I woke up with golden sunlight streaming through the gaps in the blinds. Bleary-eyed and fuzzy-headed, I sat up and stretched, feeling my muscles warm and my back click from the hours of sleep. ‘It is Saturday’, I thought with my still tired mind, trying to recall any tasks or commitments I had. My eyes turned down to Nico, still in his peaceful slumber. We both deserved to sleep long after the war had finished. Nico had had something with Will Solace when the war had first ended, but it didn’t last for one reason or another, but I knew that what they had left scars on him.

We both had scars, physical and emotional from the war and after, scars that we may never recover from. Still, there was a comfort I found with him. A comfort that I felt could mend our hurts, and heal our scars. I looked at him again, for longer this time. He looked so small, so innocent lying there, bare chested but wrapped in blankets like how a puppy buries itself in covers. His black hair was carelessly tossed around his face in lazy curls, his pale white skin no longer clung to his bones as he had gained some healthy weight back in the years since the war. With a feather touch, I traced the scars on his ribs.

“What time is it?”, he mumbled, rolling over to face me, his voice filled with sleep.

“About Ten.”

Nico turned back, shielding his face from the light. I could not help but let out a small laugh at this. His typical morning routine as I would coax him out of bed with the promise of breakfast and coffee. I was happy that he slept well at least. Some nights he would still be plagued with nightmares that caused his body to twitch, and him to wake covered in sweat. Last night was not like that, he had slept peacefully, for which I was grateful.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and slowly stood up, my feet finding their balance on the floor warmed by the morning sun. Summer was on its way and the bright mornings filled me with an energy, a type of warmth that I could not explain. I walked to the kitchen to turn on the kettle and make Nico his customary morning coffee. We tried to take turns with coffee duty, but Nico was often so reluctant to get out of bed that it fell to me, not that it bothered me.

I looked out of the small window in the kitchen at the street outside our apartment, already bustling with life. The place was small, but it was ours, and close enough to Camp Half-Blood that we could visit when we felt like it. There was an ease about this place, especially with him. It was a comfort, a feeling of belonging, of certainty. As if everything in my life had led me up to this point, this one very moment with him in the next room sleeping, and me, here. I felt like I knew every part of him. His grandest dreams and his worst nightmares. Every curve of his body, every lazy curl, every mannerism and every annoyance and I could not love him more. Nico was security, he was love, and he was all I had to protect at this very moment.

The click of the kettle roused me from my musings as I poured the water into two cups and stirred, then added the milk, and a single sugar for him. I carried the cups back to our bedroom to see him still lying there, trying to catch a few more minutes of sleep. Gently shaking his arm, I roused him from his slumber again.

“Nico, I made you a coffee.”

I saw his eyes open slightly, close again, and then open slowly as he inhaled deeply, finally rising like a marble statue having life breathed into it. He gently took the coffee and tentatively took a sip. He had never been a morning person, he would have no idea how I looked at him while he slept, how I would recall our memories from these past years and how many times I thanked the gods for having him in my life at that very moment. Nico glanced up at me from his coffee and raised his eyebrows at me.

“What?” I said questioning.

“What are you thinking about? You have a funny look on your face.”

“Just you.”


End file.
